


sweet of bitter bark

by poalimal



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Jotunn Intersexuality, Limited Understanding of Gender, M/M, Misogyny, No Incest, Other, Prejudice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:35:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poalimal/pseuds/poalimal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was tiring, it was tedious, it was deadening work, longing after Loki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sweet of bitter bark

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from Robert Frost's 'To Earthward'

 

 

The Jotunn hostage was so _queer_ \-- he would hold an idle word against you for decades before seeking revenge; but nearly cause her death, and all he had to say was:  
  
'One apology will suffice, my prince.' Her thumb slid the glittering beads of blood into a brief smear. Thor was alight with hunger, and the only thing that stayed his lips was the certainty that Loki's skin would burn him, were he to try for a taste. His red eyes were bright and cold, as if she could read Thor at a glance. 'If you would not mind...?'  
  
This was when Thor realised the third dragon was ducking back around to finish them off, and he had held off on calling up because he was too busy staring at the Jotunn's purpling lips. 'Oh, I,' he said, then he blinked away, and shouted up Heimdall's name.  
  
'If it is no bother,' murmured the Jotunn, when her legs failed and he had to lean quite heavily against Thor. Thor swallowed as the light overtook them; and he tightened his grip against Loki's waist.

 

* * *

 

Sif and Fandral were still at each other's throats when Thor sat with them at supper, Fandral's laughter high and strained, Sif's hand heavy and tight on his knee. Volstagg was not one for tension, and had eaten himself into an early slump. Hogun bore the silences with a grim happiness, as he bore most everything.  
  
It was all Fandral's fault, Thor thought bleakly; if only he had not managed to catch Sif's eye, the tension would not be so great. And then they would've been able to all go to the slay the dragons together, without having to suffocate under the weight of Sif's desire. Then Thor would not have attempted to go on alone, and the All-Father would not have conscripted the Jotunn bitch to keep an eye on him.  
  
And he would not be now staring in plain awe at the enchanted Jotunn across the hall, desperate that she should keep those eyes on him.

 

* * *

 

He had never before looked at Loki in that way; they were not often at odds. They were not often in the same room. Thor had heard tell of his prowess, that she was a beast in the bedroom, if you wanted it; or a sweet maidenish man, if you wanted that.

Her laughter was quiet and rasping, like a curl of smoke against the waves -- Thor heard it following him often, in the days that followed.

 

* * *

 

The All-Father had been urged to bind Loki's magic when he was first brought so many centuries ago, weeping and wailing and ripping at the skin of his brother's implacable arm. 'Dearheart, please,' said Helblindi-king, as though his blood did not drop down onto the stones of the throne room. 'Do you think I am not grieved?'  
  
The would-be-hostage gave a wordless cry -- and then his eyes caught Thor's, frozen and fixed across the dais -- and he went still. He swallowed down all of his sobs with a hiccup, and was otherwise completely silent while Helblindi-king turned away a little, and kissed him and spoke roughly with him.  
  
Thor lowered his gaze, face hot with shame, and he nudged at Balder until he did the same. It was unseemly, to stare so, he thought; certainly it was not so surprising. The Casket -- and peace -- could only be secured by something of great value. Had he thought the Jotnar were made entirely of ice?

 

* * *

 

A fair few days after their failed jaunt, Loki came down to the sparring ring, as if she had known Thor would be there alone. He had made his appearance more womanly today -- he darted out of Thor's grasp for hours, till it was dark and supper had long passed. Thor finally caught him along her waist and threw him to the ground -- her smell tickled at his throat. Thor felt thick with need.  
  
'Yield,' he gasped.  
  
'--I do,' Loki said, with a quiet laugh. She pressed his entire body against Thor's. Thor was bruised all over -- his groan, when it came, was one of pain and relief. He opened his arms to reach for Loki -- she grinned brightly, blueing and blurring around the edges -- and then, all at once, he disappeared.

 

* * *

 

Thor was not very clever; he had long ago made his peace with it. He was no dullard, but he lacked the wit, he thought, to amuse Loki for very long. She often seemed several hundred steps ahead of him. It was tiring, it was tedious, it was deadening work, longing after Loki. Hogun was in the final stages of a very long courtship with a woman back home, and was not very much in the mood for carousing just this night; Volstagg was in trouble with his wife; and Thor had no wish to draw Sif's ire by inviting Fandral along. So he went alone to the taverns, to find himself a lovely wench to tumble.  
  
A lovely wench found him. Her breasts were full and dark, her hair heavy and soft as wool. 'O Mighty indeed,' she said, chuckling afterwards, drooping in her bed. Thor had hoped the fire would cease; instead it had spread. He kissed her until he could not breathe, and moaned in relief when she rolled him onto his back.  
  
He came to his own rooms much later to find Loki there, pale and quite plainly unhappy. 'Did you enjoy yourself very much, my prince?' she sneered.  
  
'I did,' Thor said, plainly, watching Loki flush pink. 'Did you?'  
  
Loki's face went still -- and then it unfolded to reveal the face of the tavern wench. 'Oh, did my cunt please you so?' he said, with that laugh that Thor would have recognised in any voice.  
  
'You please me,' Thor said, dragging him forward by her hips. 'No more masks, please. I would have you as you are.'  
  
'As I am?' Loki gasped, rousing himself a little to bite viciously at Thor's lips. His illusion slipped and cracked to reveal her true face. 'I would have you dead and kneeling before me. _That_ is who I am.'  
  
Thor lowered himself before her, bowed his head. '--I would kneel before you all of my days,' he said, throat heavy with a strange grief. 'All you need do is ask.'  
  
'Thor,' Loki choked out, dragging him up again. His fingers were cool and calming against Thor's sides. 'You are far too foolish of a prince to deserve any throne.'  
  
'I deserve no great thing,' Thor agreed, blinking hard, 'but I would ask for you all the same.'  
  
The Jotunn watched him for a long time, still and silent with desire. 'Yes,' he said finally, voice little more than a breath. 'Yes, Thor. You may have me.'  
  
'And you -- will you have me?' Thor said, with great, surging relief. Loki reached up and bit at Thor's ear until he felt small and ruinous before her.  
  
'Oh, yes,' said Loki, with a laugh, 'I will, indeed.'

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Loki was gone; Helblindi-king marched on Asgard, and war was upon them.

 

 


End file.
